


afterfeather

by verfox



Series: anatomy of a feather [3]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: (aka crying kink), (if you squint), (there's stimming), Autistic Tommy Coolatta, Come Eating, Dacryphilia, Frottage, M/M, Nonverbal Consent, Oh also, Overstimulation, Under-negotiated Kink, Voice Kink, Wing Kink, Wingfic, also more excessive use of wing terminology, and some physics :), dubcon, going nonverbal during sex (oops), i have this knowledge it must be used, writtin by an autistic author :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26476915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfox/pseuds/verfox
Summary: *taps the tags* not sure what happened here but umm here's More WingkinkThe truth is one of those things he can only admit to himself in the moments just before falling to sleep - feelings be damned, he's worried if the two end up alone together he won't be able to stop himself from asking to see Tommy's wings again, and what that wouldmean-Then again, it would be okay if he did, right? Tommy literally gave him permission,saidhe could see them again if he wanted.In one of those moments, when he's tossing the idea back and forth in his head, he decides to hell with it - he sends Tommy a text. He'll deal with his problems when they're in front of him, and he's slept, thank you very much.
Relationships: Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman
Series: anatomy of a feather [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913248
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	afterfeather

**Author's Note:**

> howdy! remember to read the tags, and as always, please enjoy!

Gordon hasn't been _avoiding_ Tommy since, uh, _before_ , with the wings - in fact he's hung out with the other man since then! - but...admittedly, not alone. He has too many questions and genuinely doesn't want to bother his friend (although _that's_ basically a loaded word at this point, only in his own mind, he's sure) with those questions.

At least that's what he's telling himself, and it more-or-less works until he remembers it's not like he can get the exact answers any other way. He could google how a bird's wings work, but that won't _really_ tell him that much about _Tommy's_ in particular.

The truth is one of those things he can only admit to himself in the moments just before falling to sleep - feelings be damned, he's worried if the two end up alone together he won't be able to stop himself from asking to see Tommy's wings again, and what that would _mean_ -

Then again, it would be okay if he did, right? Tommy literally gave him permission, _said_ he could see them again if he wanted.

In one of those moments, when he's tossing the idea back and forth in his head, he decides to hell with it - he sends Tommy a text. He'll deal with his problems when they're in front of him, and he's slept, thank you very much.

***

Gordon wakes up, feeling like he's slept better than he has in a while. For a few blissful moments he lays there in peace - until he remembers, and jerks to the side to grab his phone.

Once his eyes adjust to the light he sees there is a response, Tommy's more than happy to come over, whenever. Leave it to him to be a morning person and have already responded, Gordon supposes. He rereads his own message to make sure he hadn't made a _total_ ass of himself, and decides it's fine. He'd just asked if Tommy would like to come over later today. He relaxes.

Oh. Wait. Later _today_. He immediately returns to being stressed, instead. 

Seeing that it's already nearly noon, and he hadn't been fucking _thinking_ when he sent that message - he doesn't have a lot of time to clean, so he gives Tommy a time he _prays_ he'll be done by and gets started.

***

Gordon manages to get done with enough extra time to take a shower. In fact, Tommy arrives exactly 15 minutes late (Gordon... _appreciates_ what he thinks Tommy's trying to do for him, even if it makes him feel a bit babied - although, yeah, Tommy _is_ older than him -). The taller man smiles as he greets Gordon, and takes off his shoes just inside the door.

"S-so what did you, uh, do you have planned?" If Tommy is feeling half as nervous as he is, Gordon can't tell it by his voice.

"Uh, yeah…," Mm. Yeah. Plans. "We could finish watching that movie?" He mentally punches himself the second its out of his mouth - is that too...suggestive? He knows he told himself he'd deal with his fixation once Tommy was in front of him but now that he _is_ ….

"Gordon?" Tommy taps his fingers together, a worried look on his face. "Are you feeling al-alright? I can go, go home if you're not, if you're unwell?" 

Gordon sighs and shakes his head, walking toward the couch. "No I'm fine," he walks closer, putting a hand on Tommy's shoulder as he walks past, feeling warm once he realizes what he's done. "Just didn't, uh, sleep well last night. But you don't have to go man," he adds quickly, before Tommy has the chance to worry, "I still want to hang out, so…."

Tommy finally stops tapping, satisfied, and walks over to join Gordon on the couch.

They do, in fact, manage to finish the movie, not that Gordon was paying much attention. He spent the whole time psyching himself up - figuring out what to ask; how - and is so lost in his thoughts, in fact, that he is very suddenly and surprisingly face to - er, well, to wing. Before he has the chance to say anything he hears a few pops as Tommy stretches his arms and wings in tandem.

"You, you did want to see them again, right M- right Gordon?"

Gordon is aware Tommy reverts to calling him Mr. Freemann when he's nervous, it isn't the first time that's happened. But right now he's _vastly_ more concerned with the idea that Tommy might be psychic. In the end he can't be sure he's _not_ , but there's nothing he can do about it.

Well. Seeing as Tommy's really done all the work for him - he nods. "Yeah, actually. I was, uh, wondering if you'd teach me? About, like, how they work."

"O-oh, of course! I'd be, I'd be happy to!" Tommy stood up, rearranging himself to have the room to spread out at least one wing fully at a time.

Once Gordon is settled, criss-cross applesauce (just like a student, since that's what he is in this moment), Tommy takes one wing and extends it out fully.

He takes Gordon through the groupings - the scapulars, coverts, secondaries, primaries - and explains with a little bit of movement how they work _functionally_ as well. He gets as far as holding one of his own feathers (still attached) and gently spreading apart the barbs to show him how the feathers themselves work - and then Gordon is close, in his space and touching, without thinking, like always.

Gordon hasn't really _forgotten_ that he's not supposed to be touching Tommy's feathers, but, well.

He did it entirely without thinking at first and now - Tommy's letting him. And he was fine with it last time too, and as far as Gordon's aware, he was fine with _all_ of last time.

And, the thing is - this time he's _watching_ Tommy's face; seeing how his expression changes. How could he stop now? Not that he wouldn't if the taller man asked him to of _course_ , but -

He's knocked out of his worrying by a heavy breath the other lets out.

And then he has an idea.

He readjusts his legs a little - he's not straddling Tommy but he's on his knees now; could almost be if he just moved forward a bit. He takes a feather and strokes along the vane.

"So what's this part called?" he says, smiling.

The wide-eyed look Tommy gives him for just a split second - the realization of what Gordon's doing hitting - is worth every ounce of anxiety he felt over inviting the man over in the first place.

Tommy starts tapping his fingers against his leg. He doesn't seem off-put by this new development, though, just seems to be trying to keep his breathing even.

"Th-the central stem i-is the rachis, and the little 'hairs' c, uh, coming off of it a-are barbs -"

Gordon nods in interest, rubbing his finger along the vane absently as he listens.

Tommy takes a moment to catch his breath before continuing, "a-and um, the barbs have smaller, uh little pieces, c-called barbules -"

Gordon rubs his finger across the rachis, close to where it meets skin, where there's a soft tuft. "And this?" he asks, rubbing the finger over the fluff.

As he does, Tommy closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering sigh. After just a moment he opens his eyes again and responds, "Th-that's called the afterfeather-" he cuts himself off with a choked sound that he doesn't-quite manage to hide behind a cough, "-and th- _that_ is called the calamus." His legs shift, sliding against Gordon's knees.

After a moment of just breathing heavily and trying not to do - _something_ (touch himself, but his mind's running too slow to form the thought), Tommy continues speaking unprompted, finishing his explanation of individual feathers and directing Gordon's attention to the alula.

Gordon, somehow, manages to take the cue, and rubs his fingers along the feathers there, digging the tips ever-so-gently in against the joint.

At this, Tommy's voice breaks on a long moan, finally unable to keep himself from rocking his hips, though they meet nothing but open air.

Seeing him flushed and panting, all from his touch, _does_ something to Gordon, makes his brain start skipping. He grabs the taller man by the hips and pulls him down, readjusting so that he's properly straddling the man now; and Tommy's laying on his back, wings spread on the floor.

Gordon keeps his knees clear of any feathers and grinds down, letting out a hiss. He'd been so focused on Tommy' s reactions that he hadn't even realized how hard he'd gotten himself. He keeps his balance with one hand while taking the other to a wing to softly stroke the feathers there.

Tommy's hands are above his head - out of the way of his wings - but _damn_ if he doesn't make a picture; head back, eyes closed - thrusting up against Gordon with nothing even resembling a rhythm. It gives Gordon the best (worst) idea - something he wouldn't even consider if he weren't so torturously close - (if he hadn't been working himself up for this for hours) -

He sits up on his knees suddenly, holding Tommy still when he tries to chase after, perplexed by the sudden loss of contact.

He watches Tommy's eyes open and turn toward him, following sluggishly as he moves off of the man's lap, positioning himself just in front of his wing.

Gordon makes quick work of his fly, pulling out his dick and adjusting his position further, until he can feel the coarse feathers directly against his head.

He thrusts once, slowly, careful not to hurt the man beneath him, and then looks to his face.

Tommy's looking at him with wide eyes, pupils blown so wide that only a sliver of his iris is visible (the thought 'more than a human's could,' only makes Gordons dick twitch). His mouth is open and hes fucking _whimpering_ like he's actually getting fucked.

Gordon keeps rubbing himself slowly over feathers, stroking himself off best he can as he does. Soon, Gordon's losing pace, rubs a little rougher and glances up at Tommy's face again as he hears his breath hitch.

And holy fuck that shouldn't, _shouldn't_ do it for him, but unfortunately his dick doesn't give a fuck, and he cums to the sight of Tommy crying; to the sound of him moaning desperately.

Something about the fact that he's cumming on Tommy's _wing_ is also beating him over the head, making him see stars.

A moment later, though, and something clicks in his head and he's hovering over Tommy's chest, a hand on the side of his face.

"Uhh, hey buddy, are you alright? Do you- uh. Should I continue?" His worry fades when he gets an immediate response - vigorous nodding and another low moan.

Tommy grabs him by the side of his face and pulls him in for a kiss, shoving his tongue in Gordons mouth as soon as he's within reach.

He runs his tongue across the shorter man's teeth and seems honestly like he's trying to commit the inside of his mouth to memory, pressing up into his space as much as he can.

Gordon's getting lightheaded when he remembers he has to breathe, and is only convinced Tommy has to as well by how desperately he takes in air when he pulls back.

"Mm…. You. Gross," Tommy manages, trying nonetheless to rut up against _anything_ at this point - he doesn't have the words in him right now to describe how fucking _humiliated_ he feels - he _also_ doesn't have the mental wherewithal to consider anything past just how fucking _hot_ it's making him, though, so, whatever.

He grabs one of Gordon's hands, already past the point of shame, and shoves it roughly against his own dick, his breath catching as he does.

Gordon, though, has contemplated the situation, and come up with an even better (worse) idea than the last one.

The man may be dense - but he _isn't_ stupid, and he's pretty sure he's caught on to Tommy's _thing_ for waiting, so. He ignores the whine he gets when he moves away again.

"Just be patient for me - okay? I gotta clean this up before it dries, right?" He barely stops himself from asking Tommy to be _good_ for him, and he has no _idea_ where this bravery is coming from.

Tommy stills when he asks, at any rate, and Gordon leans down, licking a long stripe of his cum off of a feather. Tommy can't seem to stop himself from jolting at the sensation, but settles down into just moaning as Gordon continues, not moving other than to get a hand in his hair.

If he didn't just get off (or was about 10 years younger, maybe), Gordon suspects he'd be getting hard again, because he definitely didn't think this through. And he is definitely thinking very hard about it now - about how his tongue must feel against those sensitive feathers _and_ about what Tommy must think of him sitting there, eating _his own cum_.

Too soon - or not, he's actually cleaned up decently. And, well.

He's already got the taste in his mouth.

He doubts Tommy's far off, if the size of the stain on the front of his pants or the way he's still making short, choked sounds, even though he's not even being touched right now - is anything to go by.

So, Gordon's careful as he gets Tommy's dick out, sliding down to put it in his mouth right away, done teasing.

Tommy thrusts once into Gordon's mouth before getting control over himself, twisting a hand back into the other's hair, though he doesn't push. Gordon, for his part, doesn't have the greatest idea what he's doing, but wets his hand with his spit and uses that to stroke the length he can't fit in his mouth without gagging.

Honestly, Tommy's amazed he's lasted this long, but Gordon's tongue lapping at his length as he tries to bob his head is making him lose his mind, and it isn't long before he does jerk Gordon's head down, going quiet for a moment and then whining as he twitches against that warm tongue.

He swallows it as best as he can (he doesn't want to hold it in his mouth, anyway).

As soon as Tommy relaxes he lets go, petting Gordons hair softly until it's out of reach.

After a moment, Tommy sits up. He stretches his wings, brushes them off, and then Gordon blinks and they're gone.

He suddenly realizes he didn't really ask the questions he'd been meaning to ask, so he tries to get one in now. "Actually, Tommy, I wanted to ask - How does your shapeshifting work? I never see you, like, fully growing wings or anything."

"Oh. I-it's pretty simple. Umm, well it's like - if you aren't l-looking I can n, uh, I can affect the quantum s-superposition of them. Y'know, like, nudge the switch between 'extant,' and, um, 'n-non-extant.'"

Gordon nods - he understands the concept, and why _not_ . That may as _well_ be how shapeshifting works for him.

And then he laughs, first because he realizes neither of them have managed to put themselves away, and then because he realizes he actually doesn't feel anxious for the moment.

He could get used to that, maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! leave a comment if you'd be so kind, and i appriciate kudos as well!
> 
> i can still be found at [tumblr](https://www.verfox.tumblr.com), not that I'm posting anything. but you can send me asks if you like.


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